Honeymoon
by Violet-Amy
Summary: The Mayan apocalypse is only three days away. Sam and Brittany just got married. Now it's time for the honeymoon. From a GKM prompt.
1. Chapter 1

"It's December eighteenth. Three days till the end. Let's make this time count."

Brittany nods solemnly, because marriage is a solemn occasion, and so is the end of the world. They could travel, try to see the world in three days, but she rejects that idea. Family is the most important thing in a time like this. That's what she told her mom and dad, but they left for Saint-Tropez anyway. But it's fine because Sam is her family now. Her husband.

Wow, her husband!

And she and her _husband_ have the house themselves for the rest of time.

She's never dated someone this long before having sex with them. Actually, now that she thinks about it...she's pretty sure she's always had sex first, and _then_ started dating. Or not started dating at all. It just proves that Sam is special, that he really is the one, her soulmate, the one she's destined to spend eternity with in Mayan heaven.

"Let's go have our honeymoon at my..._our_ house, husband."

Sam smiles. "That's the best idea I've ever heard, wife."

Brittany drives them home. "Are you sad that you'll never see your parents again?" Sam asks her.

"A little," she says, "but I texted them and told them I forgive them for leaving."

"What about your sister?"

"Yeah, but I'm glad that she's with my grandma, because I don't think either of them know, and it's best that way."

Brittany doesn't ask if Sam is sad that he'll never see his family again. He is, but he decides not to call them to tell them good-bye. Like Brittany said, it's probably best for them not to even know the end is coming. He'll just call on the twentieth and tell them he loves them.

They reach Brittany's house—_their _house—and Sam carries her over the threshold. He sets her down on the couch and kneels in front of her. He takes her hands and looks into her eyes and says, "I love you, Brittany. And now that we're married I think we should be completely honest with each other." She nods, and he continues: "I've been really nervous about...having sex with you..."

"I know that," she says. She can tell it's not because he doesn't think she's hot.

"I've only done that a couple times, and never with anyone I'm crazy about, and—"

"And you're worried you won't be any good?"

"Kinda," he admits.

"Don't," she says, brushing her fingers through his hair. "Lots of guys aren't that good, I'm sort of used to it. I can always make myself come if you can't do it."

"Oh," he says. It's not exactly the reassurance he was hoping for.

"Besides, you have three whole days to practice. That's like...let's see, three times an hour, times...how many hours in a day?"

"You're the best, Britt." He pulls her left hand closer to himself. "I wish I could've bought you a ring."

"Jewelry's not important to me."

He kisses her hand, the knuckle of her ring finger. "It would have looked really pretty on you though." He licks a circle around the finger, where a ring would go, then pulls the finger into his mouth and sucks on the tip. He kisses her wrist and starts kissing up the inside of her arm, but stops because the lacy sleeve of her wedding dress tickles his lips, and anyway he doubts she can feel it too much.

"This dress can come off, you know," Brittany says, reaching for the zipper in back.

He takes her hand to stop her. "Yeah, I know. But you look so beautiful in it. Do you mind leaving it on for a little while?"

She shakes her head and says, "I don't mind. You look super hot in your suit too."

Sam gets up off the floor and straddles her on the couch, not quite sitting in her lap but more hovering just above it. "I love you, wife," he says, just before he leans in and captures her lips in his.

Brittany returns the kiss, exploring the inside of his mouth with her tongue. "Wow," she says, "husband spit tastes even better than boyfriend spit."

"Can I find out what wife skin tastes like?"

Brittany nods. Sam traces a line with his tongue from her chin to under her ear. He pulls her earlobe into his mouth gently, being careful not to pull out her earring, and then moves slowly down her neck. He places open-mouthed kisses on her shoulder and chest—only the parts that are already exposed; he doesn't disturb the dress.

Of course, he's tasted her neck and chest before—even her boobs once, and they were _awesome_—and she doesn't _really_ taste any different now that she's his wife. But there's one part of her he's never seen before, much less tasted...and he can get there without removing her dress. True, her white tights will have to go, but he reasons that if he just pulls them down a little instead of taking them all the way off, it doesn't really ruin the look.

He gets on the floor and kneels in front of her. Her tights—he didn't notice this before, but they have a line of, like, less see-through white going up the back of each leg. He traces one of the lines with his finger, from her ankle to the back of her knee. That's where the couch cushion pretty much stops him. "You wanna see where it leads?" Brittany asks.

"Yes!" Sam says, wanting very much to trace the line as far up as he can.

Brittany stands and turns so her back is to him. He starts at the ankle again, moving his finger up slowly. Brittany's watching him over her shoulder, and when he gets that far she hikes her dress up at the same rate. The lines stop about midway up her thighs and everything turns to lace, and then the lace stops too and Sam gasps.

He's just realized she's got those stockings on that the women sometimes wear in high-class porn, with garters and everything. There are a couple inches of bare thigh, and then a tiny little pair of lacy white panties that show off two round and smooth and irresistible butt cheeks. Honest to god, the whole effect is, like, equal parts virginal bride and expensive call-girl. He's not sure which turns him on more. "Oh sweet Jesus," he says.

"I thought you'd like it."

"I'm seriously the luckiest guy ever. You're my wife, mine forever."

"Forever and ever," Brittany agrees. Holding the skirt up to her waist, she turns 360 degrees for him to see her from every angle.

Sam slides his hands up under the panties, and he's totally groping her ass, and it's his wife's ass and he can grope it whenever he wants! It's not what he most wants to touch, though. He turns her so she's facing him and lightly grips the panties' waistband. "Can I take them off?" he asks softly.

Brittany nods and silently unfastens the garters. Sam slowly pulls the panties down to her knees. She's not completely shaved, which surprises him, since all the girls in porn are. But Brittany has a little patch of soft blonde hair, and it's somehow the sexiest thing Sam has ever seen. He touches it—tentatively, as if he's afraid he might hurt her—and it tickles his fingertips.

He finds himself wondering like crazy what she tastes like down there. He's never gone down on a girl—in fact he's never really seen a girl's junk up close. The couple times he had sex with that girl in Kentucky he lost his virginity to, they were in the back of her car and trying to finish before getting caught, so there really wasn't any exploring going on.

Normally he'd be kind of terrified to try it for the first time with Brittany because, let's face it, if anyone can tell a good eating-out from a bad one it's likely her. But...YOLO, and only for three more days, so...

He puts his face right up to her mound, the little patch of hair tickling his lips and chin. He breathes in heavily. He feels like he could get drunk off her scent, and he's not even at its source yet. He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue...

"Oh! Sammy!"

Sam looks up at her, worried. "I'm sorry, I didn't ask if that was okay!"

"More than okay," Brittany says. "Can I make it a little easier for you?"

Sam nods eagerly. Brittany wiggles the panties down to her ankles and steps out of them. She sits on the edge of the couch, dress hiked up to her waist, and opens her legs. Sam immediately has his face in her crotch again, and he's still moving slowly and gently, but somehow less tentatively now. He kisses her lips and glides his tongue along her slit. Up and down, moving just a tiny bit deeper with each pass.

Finally he separates her lips with his fingers, and wow! Everything inside is so pink. And _wet_—so apparently he's doing something right. There's the little bud of her clitoris, all puffy and inviting. He really wants to just go for it, but he doesn't, because he wants to taste every other part first. He starts by licking a long, broad stripe that stops just short of her clit.

And, fuck, if he thought Brittany's scent was enough to get him drunk before, now it's just...the scent is actually making him lightheaded, and the taste and the feel of her on his tongue is even better. He's completely immersed in her sex, it's overwhelming every one of his senses, he could swear he can even hear her blood pulsing.

Brittany moans and puts her hand in Sam's hair. She squirms, in part because she can't help it, and in part because she's trying to get him to touch her clit. At first she thought maybe he didn't know where it was, but now she's convinced he's avoiding it on purpose to drive her crazy. And it's _so_ working. By the time his tongue plunges inside her pussy she's nearly out of her mind. He starts fucking her with his tongue, and it's so good, and if he would just...

She's about to...she doesn't know. Beg...or _order_ him to touch it...or take matters into her own hands, when she feels the tip of his tongue moving toward it. "God, Sammy, please don't stop," she says.

He doesn't stop. He flicks her clit a few times, sending shocks of joy through her. He flattens his tongue against it and basically just holds still because by this time Brittany can't contain herself at all and is pretty much humping his face. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," she chants. He starts to suck, and she loses it.

She wails as she tries but fails not to squeeze Sam's head between her thighs. It's so good, all she can do is thrash and scream as her orgasm crashes through her. It doesn't slow down, in fact it keeps building. Brittany thinks for a minute that this is actually how she's going to die and that it'll be the best death ever. By the time she finally reaches the peak, her throat is raw from screaming but she manages a final, "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" and she feels a final gush of juices flood Sammy's mouth. Her thrashing slows down to rocking, and she whimpers softly as her thigh muscles relax and release Sam's head from their grip. He continues to kiss her until she's completely still.

Sam rests his chin on her knee and says, "That was awesome."

Brittany opens her eyes and looks down at him. His hair is rumpled. His cheeks are pink and his face is wet and glistening. His ears are red. "Sorry I squeezed you so hard."

"It was totally worth it."

"You are...amazing at that. I kinda thought you had never done it before."

"I hadn't, that was the first time."

"For real?" Brittany asks. People have told her before that she's too gullible, but she doesn't think Sam would lie to her, even if it is hard to believe. "Well, let's not let it be the last time. But first I think it's my turn."

Sam perks up. "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. Why don't you stand up?" Sam stands in front of her, and Brittany scoots forward on the couch. Seeing the bulge in his suit pants, she licks her lips. She thinks Sam is pretty big, but she's only seen and felt his cock through clothing before, and even then it's just been incidentally.

Sam undoes his belt, but Brittany pushes his hands away, wanting to do it herself. She pops open the button and pulls down his zipper, letting her fingers graze over his still cotton-covered length. His dick is already pretty hard, but she feels it stiffen even more at her touch. She tugs at his pants and he lifts his butt off the couch enough for her to push them down past his hips. "Oh my god," she says. He's wearing black briefs—black _mesh_ briefs. The only part that's solid fabric is the panel covering his cock. "Sammy, will you strip for me? Please?"

"What? Now?" he asks. He's glad she likes the underwear—he bought them special just for this occasion—but he's really hard and he's really eager for her to...

"Not now," she says. "I can't wait that long to suck your dick. But after that? Before you fuck me?"

He feels his dick jump a little at the words _fuck me_, and he says, "Yeah. Sure."

Her hand slips inside the briefs and wraps around his cock. Sam lets out a low groan. It's not technically the first time a girl's touched him there, but it feels like it. Brittany pulls his underwear down and says, "Oh my god," again.

"What?" Sam asks, slightly worried.

"I had no idea you were _this_ hung," Brittany says. She's had sex with lots of guys who were above average before, even big, but Sam is fucking _hung_. And she knows they say that size doesn't matter, but it actually kinda does. It's been a long time since she's worried at all about taking a cock, about whether it might hurt. Not that she's exactly _worried_ now—she's totally eager. And if it does hurt a little at first, it'll be like being a virgin on her wedding night! Which her parents always used to tell her would make it special.

She strokes his cock lightly, sort of reverently, in fact. It's almost like she doesn't know where to begin. Actually it's more that she wants to begin everywhere and can't choose. Her eyes are drawn to his huge, heavy balls. She thinks of all the delicious spunk in there just waiting to shoot into her mouth and decides that's a good place to start.

Dragging her fingernails across one, she slowly licks and sucks the other one into her mouth. "Oh, fuck, Britt," Sam says, "I gotta sit down for this."

Brittany reluctantly lets him slip out of his mouth so he can sit, and she moves to the floor between his legs. "Comfy now?"

"Uh-huh."

She goes right back to what she was doing before, but with the other ball in her mouth this time. Sam is kind of pissed at himself for being too shy to mess around with Brittany before this, because she's freaking amazing. But on the other hand he really is a romantic, and he's happy their first time gets to be on their wedding night.

Just when Sam starts to think he might come from ball play alone, she starts to lick all over his shaft—like it's a popsicle and she has to lick everywhere fast because it's melting. She starts to kiss and suck here and there, everywhere except the head. Meanwhile she's stroking him wherever her mouth isn't. Sam leans back and closes his eyes. It's the best...it really is the best thing ever.

Until she starts on his head, that is. "Oh god!" He lurches forward and grasps blindly at Brittany's hair, accidentally grabbing her flowery head-wreath thing instead. He flings it aside in annoyance, totally forgetting he thought it was really pretty on her.

She licks up his pre-come and mutters, "So good," which is exactly—_exactly _—what Sam is thinking. She licks all around the head before encircling it with her lips. And then she starts to suck, and—oh, Jesus fucking Christ. It's not like the little sucky-kissy things she was doing before (which were great, by the way), but she's really _sucking_, like she wants to suck all his come right into her mouth.

Just in case she doesn't realize that's what's going to happen, he asks, "Do you want me to warn you before I..." Brittany shakes her head vigorously and starts pumping him. He watches her head bob up and down on him, and then she moans—_Brittany_ moans like sucking his cock is her favorite thing in the world, and that does it for him.

His balls tighten and his cock surges deeper into her mouth, back toward her throat, and spurts out torrents of thick, creamy come. Brittany swallows it—of course she swallows it, she _loves_ come.

When she judges that he's shot most but not all he's going to, she maneuvers his dick so it's not quite as far back in her mouth—not because she's afraid she'll gag or anything (she never gags), but because when jizz goes straight down her throat she doesn't get a chance to really taste it. She manages to catch a pretty decent pool on her tongue. After Sam shudders and pulls out his spent cock, she rolls the come around her mouth, savoring its salty tanginess, before swallowing it.

"Oh my god, Britt," Sam pants, leaning forward to rest his forehead on hers. "That was..."

"Yummy!" she supplies.

"You're really yummy too."

"I know," she agrees enthusiastically. "I can't wait to suck your dick after you've been fucking me for a while."

"Oh Jesus, Britt." He just came—really hard—and already he's feeling another twitch just at hearing her say that.

"Are you ready to strip for me?" she asks.

"Fuck. Can you give me, like, a minute to recuperate?"

She makes a pouty face at him, but just for play, she's not really mad. She says it's fine and rests her head on his lap. And while she's right there and not doing anything else she can't help but play with his cock a little, because she just really, really likes it so much.


	2. Chapter 2

Brittany can't keep her hands off Sam's dick. It's really sensitive right now, but that's not why he needs her to stop—he needs her to stop because if she continues much longer he's going to get hard again, and if he gets hard again now, he's probably going to end up taking her right there on the couch without even bothering to undress. And that wouldn't be bad at all, except he promised he'd strip for her.

He gently takes her hands and holds them. "Do you still want that strip show?"

"Totally!" she says, letting go and sitting back so he can stand up.

Sam fixes his clothes and moves the coffee table out of the way while Brittany puts some music on. The song that's playing—Sam doesn't actually know it's name, but they played it at the strip club a lot. He even remembers the routine he did to it.

But he doesn't want to do the same routine for his wife that he did for anonymous customers, so he makes it up as he goes along, grinding his hips in time to the music. He dances toward her while loosening his tie, and when he's right in front of her he removes it and drapes it around her neck.

"Take it all off!" Brittany yells.

He swings his suit jacket around over his head and whips it across the room. While he's unbuttoning his shirt he turns around slowly and shakes his butt at her teasingly. She shrieks and pinches it—a huge no-no if she were a paying customer, but as his wife she can pinch him as much as she wants.

With his shirt open he moves even closer, one leg on either side of her knees. He gives her some of his patented White Chocolate body rolls, letting the shirt slip off his shoulders. She reaches for his chest, gliding her hands across his pecs and down over his abs. They slide back up and tweak his nipples. He'd love to do the same to her but she's still in her wedding dress, looking very proper, in fact, with her dress demurely covering her knees. No one would ever guess that underneath it she was wearing hooker stockings and no underwear, that her cunt was probably still soaking wet.

Sam always felt like a whore stripping at the club, and he kind of feels like that now too, but not in the degrading, real-life way—in more of a sexy, fantasy way. He starts to get hard, and when Brittany notices and gropes him through his pants he gets much harder much quicker. As he removes his belt and undoes his pants he's not really dancing so much as dry humping the air an inch above his wife's lap.

Brittany pushes the pants down over his hips, but he has to back up to take them off. He pulls his socks off at the same time, because an outfit of mesh briefs and black socks would probably look way more dorky than hot. He puts his hands behind his head and circles his hips, and Brittany stares with a kind of awe. He turns to show her his mesh-encased ass, and he doesn't stop dancing even when he feels her kneeling behind him and sliding her hands up under the briefs. He doesn't stop dancing until her hands move around to the front and start stroking his cock. "Oh fuck, Britt."

"Are you gonna take it all off, or what?"

He does, he pulls down his one remaining article of clothing. Brittany doesn't let go of his dick until he bends forward to push the underwear down to his ankles. That's when she grabs his butt cheeks, pulls them apart, and licks in between them. "Oh! Oh Jesus, Brittany!" This is not something Sam has ever even contemplated having done to him, but it's kind of awesome.

She stops all too soon, but it's to turn him around and suck on his cock, which is not something he's going to complain about. She sucks and sucks, playing with his nuts and his ass the whole time, until he's almost ready to burst. And then she stops abruptly.

"Britt?"

"I don't want you to come in my mouth again."

"Sorry," he says, confused. She didn't seem to mind at the time. "I didn't know you don't like that."

"I love it. But I want you to fill my pussy with your come. I want you to get me pregnant so we can have star babies together."

"Yeah?" The idea actually turns him on way more than he would have expected. But... "You think we're ready to be parents?"

"Of course, silly. Everyone's happy all the time in heaven. That means babies never cry. And no poopy diapers, cause that would make me unhappy."

Oh yeah. Of course. Sam thinks for a minute about filling her with his seed, about how sexy (and horny, from what he hears) she'll be when her belly is swelling with his child, and how beautiful their non-crying, non-pooping baby will be. When she stands up and looks at him with her gorgeous blue eyes, which their kid will probably inherit, he knows this is exactly what he wants.

He wordlessly picks her up and carries her to her bedroom—_their _bedroom, that is. Standing next to her bed they kiss as Sam unzips her dress. She slips it off her shoulders and lets it fall down around her. She's wearing a lacy white bra—it probably matches the panties that they left downstairs—which Sam quickly unclasps and removes.

Brittany starts to pull her tights off, but Sam tells her, "No, leave the hooker stockings on," and she does. He cups her breasts and plays with her nipples; he knows she likes this, and sure enough she's moaning soon and rubbing against his leg.

"Lay down," she tells him, and he complies immediately. She climbs on, straddling his thighs, and playing with his cock. It really is gorgeous—and _so_ big. She should really ask him to finger her a little first, but...but that would mean waiting longer for what she really wants. She decides to just go for it. But not without just one more quick taste first.

"Oh god!"

"Sorry," Brittany says. She moves up to share a kiss with him and then adds, "It's so delicious I just can't help it."

"It wasn't a complaint," Sam says.

She kisses his neck...and his ear...and whispers to him, "Are you ready to make love to me, Mr. Pierce?"

"_I'm_ ready, Mrs. Pierce. Are you?" He reaches between her legs and feels her wetness. Brittany can't help but rub herself against his fingers. "You feel ready."

She scoots back down to line herself up and watches Sam lick her juices off his fingers. She hovers over his cock, takes it, and guides it into herself slowly. Her walls have to stretch—she actually feels them stretch to accommodate his girth.

"Fuck," Sam gasps. "Fuck, Britt, you're so tight."

"I'm not really," she says honestly. She has great muscle control and can make herself _feel_ tight, but she's only about average in terms of actual tightness when at rest. And right now she's trying extra hard to let those muscles rest. "It's just that you're so huge."

"Are you okay?"

"Are you kidding? I _love_ it. I just have to go slow at first to get used to it."

Sam doesn't mind her going slow at first. That is, he does have to fight the urge to just fuck up into her as fast as he can, but entering his wife for the first time feels so incredible, he wants to really enjoy it, savor it for as long as he can. He wants to really take it all in, so he'll have an amazing memory of his last few days when he's in Mayan heaven.

Brittany lowers herself a little at a time on her husband's cock. It really does feel like it's her first time—except that this time she knows it's going to be the best fuck of her life; her actual first time she didn't even know if she'd like it at all. As she sinks down the last inch she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She's seriously never felt this full. Sam is in her so deep, it's like they're one person.

She holds perfectly still, and Sam does too, but it's so tight that she can still feel every tiny movement of his dick—she can actually feel the blood rushing through it. She can feel how much it's aching for some movement.

And it's true, Sam is aching for movement. But it's the most awesome ache he's ever felt. Brittany is so tight (even if she says she isn't), and she looks so hot sitting on top of him like she is, with that look of deep concentration on her face.

Eventually Brittany starts to move—slowly at first, raising and gently lowering herself again on her husband's cock. But she can't stay slow for long because it's so good, so good. She quickens her pace, and soon she's slamming herself down hard, over and over, grinding on Sam each time she's got his full length inside her.

Jesus Christ, she's good. Her cunt is wrapped around his dick so tight that even the slightest friction drives him nearly out of his mind. And the friction is anything but slight as she bounces wildly—it's the most amazing thing ever.

Brittany grabs her own tits and plays with her nipples, and she looks like she's going to come any second. Sam fingers her clit and she immediately unravels.

She cries out as euphoria floods through her. She can't even think, and all her movements are purely instinctual: the way she squeezes Sam's hips between her knees, the way she squeezes his cock inside her pussy, the way she lurches forward...even the way she sucks on his neck as her hips continue to gyrate, yanking his dick this way and that.

Brittany coming on his cock feels so good, Sam has to muster all his willpower not to come at the same time. He'd just go ahead and come, but he's pretty sure that if he waits, he'll be able to get her to come again. And he _loves_ making his wife come.

He's pretty sure she can come again..._if_ her first orgasm ever actually stops, that is. It goes on _so_ long. He's going to have a huge bruise on his neck where she's sucking, but that feels good too, so he doesn't mind at all.

When she unsuctions her mouth from him, when her wild bouncing slows to gentle rocking and then stops altogether, when she lies totally limp on top of him, Sam figures orgasm number one has passed. "How are you doing?" he asks.

She replies with incoherent babbling.

"Can I keep going?"

She lifts her head when she realizes Sam just asked her a question; it takes her a few seconds to process what the question was. "Yeah, of course. In just a minute..." She slides off his cock and crawls backwards toward the foot of the bed, stopping when her face is at crotch level.

Sam hopes she's about to do what he thinks she's about to do. And she does! She glides her tongue and her lips all over his cock, slurping up her own juices. "So good," she mumbles, more to herself than to Sam. She starts to suck. It's awesome, and Sam is really tempted to let himself blow in her mouth again. But he gently pulls her head up and reminds her, "We won't make any star babies this way."

"Right," she says, climbing back onto his dick.

She no sooner starts rocking back and forth than Sam flips them both over in one motion. She's on her back now, legs wrapped around his waist, and he's got much better leverage for pumping into her. "I've wanted to fuck you for so long," he says.

"Yeah?" Brittany says. "Well I've wanted you to too. I've wanted you to give it to me hard."

"God, Britt."

Sam keeps fucking harder and faster until it feels like there's a jackhammer in her. She fucking loves it. She feels another orgasm building and grabs hold of the mattress to brace herself for it. This time she wants Sam to come with her, and she says, "Give me your come, baby. Knock me up."

Sam and Brittany let go at the same moment. Sam roars as he plunges in one last time and unloads deep insider her, her clenching walls milking him dry. Brittany screams and bucks under him. She grabs his ass and tries to pull him farther and farther in.

She keeps coming for a lot longer than he does. By the time she's done, Sam's cock is really, really sensitive and has had all it can take for a while.

As has Sam himself; he's exhausted and totally drained. Brittany too, apparently—she seems to have dozed off already. Sam's too tired to even pull out and, besides, he doesn't want to let all the baby juice spill out of her.

He's just going to close his eyes and rest for a few minutes. And then when he wakes up, if Brittany's still asleep he's going to fuck her awake and shoot her full of another load. And another and another and another as he takes her on the floor and bent over her desk and in the shower...

And he falls asleep with a big smile on his face, happy that his and his wife's last three days on earth are going to be the best three days anyone ever had.


End file.
